


The Lack of Reaction

by christinesangel100



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Abused Harry, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinesangel100/pseuds/christinesangel100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second year, inspired by scene in the film where Filch threatens to kill Harry.<br/>When Harry doesn't respond to a Death threat, it sends Severus thinking. Is the boy-who-lived as safe and confident as he appears? Or is he using his fame to hide a lifetime of constant abuse? There are some signs everyone has been ignoring. Severus mentoring Harry, abused Harry. COMPLETELY ABANDONED, I wrote this years ago and have no plans to continue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Wrote this before Deathly Hallows Part 2 came out, watching chamber of secrets. I published it on fanfiction and have written 5 chapters since. I haven't edited it since then, not this chapter anyway, so hopefully it's alright. I'll post the next chapter soon, seeing as its already been written.  
> This is based around me noticing that when Filch threatens to kill Harry after Mrs Norris has been petrified, he doesn't react. Almost as though he was used to death threats.  
> So, I wondered what might happen if Severus noticed. Warning, Severus does act a little ooc at some points. Thank you for reading!

He didn't try to get away.

He didn't try to fight back.

No one noticed his lack of response.

Why did he? He, the one who hated the boy most, who wished he didn't exist. Why was he the only one who noticed the reaction?

He was a Gryffindor. He'd fought in dangerous situations before, despite his young age.  
Why didn't he try to escape the grasp and glare of the man who tried to kill him?

"I'm gonna kill you!" The man screeched, and though Harry looked frightened, he made no move to back away. It seemed, to him at least, that the boy's natural reaction had been to do nothing-to simply remain in harm's way until it was over. Until the beating had ended.

Why did the reaction trouble him so?

What was it about the boy's lack of response that worried him? The boy was a Gryffindor, after all. Stupid, idiotic, reckless-but brave. Determined. A true Gryffindor wouldn't just give up, they'd try to escape and fight back.

She would have.

He sat alone, thinking about the boy. He did, after all, live with his mother's sister. Was that the ideal location for him? He knew that the boy's aunt did not exactly welcome magic. In his head, he saw the boy, cowering in a corner, and suddenly remembered the address he'd seen, on an envelope at the beginning of the previous year- Harry Potter, the cupboard under the stairs.

A cupboard...under the stairs? In his mind he heard the echoes of her cries, as he'd once heard them, when he'd found her crying about her sister, crying about Potter.  
What would she think if she knew? Would she suspect it? Would she think he was just being paranoid, as he always had been?

He feared what he knew her reaction would have been. She would have wanted him to protect the boy. She would want to know why he hadn't. Why he'd never tried to check on the boy, her boy, her child. Why had he never cared? He felt an ache in his chest as he thought of what her reaction would have been to his treatment of the boy-especially if what he suspected was correct.

The thing was, he was not only his father's son, and despite his attempts to hide that from himself, he knew the truth. He was much like his mother. They shared many things-though not, of course, their aptitude at potions. If the boy would try...no, he knew...even if the boy tried, could he bring himself to treat the boy fairly? The boy who was the splitting image of his old tormentor? The one he'd hated throughout his Hogwarts years?

Perhaps he could. Sometimes, he thought it was the first one, the father, looking at him with that disdainful expression, that hatred filled gaze. And then he saw her eye's. Her eyes, in the boy he'd sworn to protect, no matter what. He'd sworn to protect the boy-he had to do his duty. His job.

He couldn't break his promise.

He thought back to the problem. How did the boy act when returning to Hogwarts? He never seemed to feel homesick. He didn't seem at all upset about not seeing his family. He stayed at Hogwarts for each and every holiday he was permitted to.

He always seemed skinny, too skinny, half starved at the beginning of the term. On the first of September.

And then there were the bruises.

Oh, how stupid had he been! Thinking back to it, he remembered that occasion in potions. The boy had been stirring a cauldron, and he had sneered at the boy as he stirred, the boy's sleeve rising up, slightly too small for him. He sneered, his mouth an unpleasant line as he mocked the boy.

He felt sickened.

"What did you do, allow Longbottom to practice a spell? Dear me...how incredibly foolish..." He'd sneered at the boy. The boy had flushed red, and pulled down his sleeve. He hadn't stirred the potion again for the remainder of the lesson, allowing his partner and best friend to do the job instead.

He folded his hands together as he sat at the desk, trying to ease his fear. Surely he was imagining this. Surely, surely. It couldn't be what he feared. What, the celebrity hiding a secret? He didn't have the chance. The rest of the world knew more about him than the boy did himself. He was too famous to have secrets.

It would be well hidden, he realised. Or it could be plain to anyone who wanted to see it, but no one bothered to look. No one could imagine that that boy, the one who never died, would have such a deadly secret. No one would think of it. Did his friends notice? Did the observant genius he had as one of his two best friends not add up the clues he left for them?

He had not reacted when his life had been threatened. He had not reacted at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, Snape's quite OOC in this chapter. I wanted to make it unique, though, and I hadn't read this before, so my twin and I came up with it. I know there are a lot of fics with this general idea (Snape discovers the abuse, etc) but even so, this is meant to be my own fanfiction.   
> But I tried to keep them in character. Again, like the last chapter, I wrote this a couple of years ago, so forgive any mistakes. I'm kinda lazy as well, so I haven't edited it since then, also because I'm tired.   
> Anyway-thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Severus had wondered how to proceed. The Halloween feast was over, and he had done nothing yet, though it had been several days. He was unsure as of how to act. After all, he had to confirm his suspicions before going to Dumbledore. He could not speak directly to the boy, of course-Potter hated him with a passion. Who could he speak to, then? He needed to confront those who may have noticed some of what was going on, and yet in the interests of the boy's safety would not tell Potter that he had spoken to them.

He looked over at the boy, who sat laughing with his friends as they ate. And then it came to him.

He knew exactly who to talk to.

 

-

It was difficult to concentrate during the potions lesson. It always was, Harry noted; Snape did his best to make certain of that. This lesson, he seemed to be scrutinizing everything Harry, Ron and Hermione did, barely taking his eyes off them for an instant. Harry avoided the Professor's eyes, wondering what he hoped to see. Surely he wasn't that desperate to punish them? Well, it was Snape, after all.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to concentrate on his potion. Ron was arguing with Hermione beside him, and it was quite distracting. Their voices, which had at first been quiet, were becoming louder and louder as Hermione tried to correct Ron.

"No, you're doing it wrong again, look!"

"Maybe if you let me try, I'd be able to do it!" he retorted, glaring at her.

"Maybe if you weren't about to blow up your potion and probably get us all in trouble, I could!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, maybe-"

"Maybe," A silky voice interrupted them, "They should stop arguing. Detention, Weasley, Detention, Granger, for disrupting the lesson. Report to my office at eight o' clock tonight." He said, sweeping past them without another word. Harry stared after him with hatred, and also with an ounce of confusion.

If Snape was giving them detention for an argument, why hadn't he come up with some excuse to give one to Harry?

The potions professor swept back to his desk.

"Potter," He called out. "20 points from Gryffindor for not trying to break them up."

Harry glared fiercely at the hated professor. He shouldn't have jinxed it.

\----------------

At eight o' clock that night, two nervous Gryffindors knocked on the door of the darkest dungeon…the door to Snape's office.

"Enter." He said coldly. The girl, Granger, entered first, walking in with her head slightly down, no doubt worried about this 'detention'. The Weasley boy followed, looking very annoyed with the potions professor.

"Sit." He told them, pointing to the two chairs in front of his desk. They did so as if dreading what would come next, not trusting him at all. That was, of course, understandable. He would normally give them quite a horrible detention. However, in this case, it would be different. He faced them for a moment.

"Do not worry. This is not actually a detention." He ignored their looks of surprise and confusion, continuing with his explanation.

"I need to speak to you about some suspicions I have. If they are confirmed, I will need to take action. It would be better not to tell anyone about this meeting. Tell them I made you clean out cauldrons full of bubotuber pus."

He paused for a moment, considering. How best to ask them?

The Granger girl was watching him, frowning slightly. She had probably noticed his uncertainty in this.

He straightened up and stared directly at them.

"What has Potter told you about his relatives?" He asked.

The children looked at each other. The girl spoke first.

"He…He doesn't really talk about them very much…." She began hesitantly, looking nervously at the boy as if she wasn't really sure whether she should be saying anything.

Weasley watched him with distrust.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how they treat him?"

The boy frowned. Granger, on the other hand, let out a little gasp of realisation.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

She had half covered her mouth with her hands, lowering them to answer him.

"Sir..Professor, you don't think…"

"That his relatives are abusing him?" He asked smoothly. "That is exactly what I suspect."

She looked horrified at the thought of it, which did nothing to reassure him.

"But…" She glanced at Ron, who looked confused and horrified at the idea as well, but didn't seem as worried.

"Ron, you know how they treated him! You said there were bars on his windows!"

Ron looked at her, frowning. "But, he can't be being….abused!" He burst out. "It could have been, I don't know, protection or something!"

She sighed. "Ron, you said the door was locked with a cat flap in the door! You said he was being starved." She reminded.

The boy looked horrified. "They couldn't actually have….could they?" Suddenly, he looked up at the Professor, as if pleading for the Professor to tell him the idea was ridiculous, and that Harry had never been mistreated in his life. Snape said nothing.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other again, hating the idea. Ron gulped.

"Well…we went to rescue him this summer…" He began hesitantly. "He…he was in one of the rooms. There were bars on the windows, and he didn't think he'd be able to get out or go back to Hogwarts. Uh…his school stuff was locked in the cupboard under the stairs; we had to get it out. When they realised he was trying to leave they tried to pull him out of the car and back into the house. We managed to pull him into the car, and we left…"

Snape felt himself becoming increasingly worried as he heard this disjointed explanation.

"Car? Are you speaking of the car you flew to Hogwarts instead of taking the train?" He asked.

Ron glared at him. "We couldn't get onto the platform! Yeah, we used it to rescue him." He answered, though looking a bit worried about the admission.

Snape waved that aside, cursing his momentary distraction.

"Does he appear injured at all after returning home?"  
Hermione nodded, her eyes wide with horror. "I noticed last year, but I didn't know. He was bruised this year, too…." She trailed off. His heart sank. It seemed more and more plausible that the 'perfect' boy who lived was being abused.

He stood up, feeling almost as though he could no longer remain seated. They watched skittishly as he moved, standing up and walking behind them. He glared at them.

"How," He began, "Did you not notice?"

 

Ronald defended them both immediately.

"Neither of us knew about it! Anyway, I didn't think he was telling the truth…he used to tell stories about them to me, just tall stories, right?" He said angrily.

"And what were these stories about, Mr Weasley?" Snape asked, his cold anger making the girl wince slightly, probably unused to a teacher's anger.

He swallowed nervously before answering.

"They…they were about….him being locked in a cupboard, and never getting presents or money, and his family hating him…" He stopped for a moment, staring down at his desk.

Then he said quietly, "They were all true, weren't they." It wasn't a question, but Snape answered anyway.

"I believe so, Mr Weasley." His voice drawled. "I will need to do some further investigation before I speak to the Headmaster, however."

They stared at him in horrified silence, ashamed of their stupidity. They clearly hated the fact that they hadn't noticed it.

"Do not worry." He found himself saying. "I will do my best to prevent his return there." He wondered where these strange words had come from-why was he telling them not to worry? They were Gryffindor's, of all people.

They looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, and he almost chuckled.

He'd have to work hard to retain his reputation after all of this.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, even though I wrote this ages ago and have it posted on Fanfiction, I forgot to post it and the next chapters here. I'll probably wait a while before posting the next. It's unedited, sorry, hopefully not too bad or anything. Let me know if it is. :) 
> 
> So, enjoy!

He again found himself with a dilemma. Having ascertained the truth of his suspicions, there was still not much he could do. He waited another two days before acting, watching the boy and his friends. The two friends almost caused him to sigh in exasperation. Both were treating him as if he was incredibly fragile. If they’d wanted to pretend they were hiding something from him, they were doing a good job.

Yet one break time brought an unexpected surprise.

The youngest Weasley boy, Potter’s friend, came to visit him alone. No doubt he had managed to make some kind of excuse for leaving their company.

The knock came on the door whilst he was marking essays. He had not been expecting a student at that time, however, he was used to many of the younger Slytherin students finding time to visit him for advice and assistance.

“Enter.” He called out, standing up to face the student who was entering. It was slightly surprising to see a young Gryffindor-Ronald Weasley, in fact-coming into his dungeon, albeit nervously. He blinked, an unconscious way of showing his surprise.

“Professor?” He asked, swallowing slightly.

“Weasley.” He answered. It was his way of greeting, and it sufficed, as he knew. Everyone knew him to be cold and indifferent to them; and he wasn’t the type to attempt to change those ideas.

The red-headed child nodded, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I…well….it’s about Harry.” He said, looking up worriedly at the Professor’s face for his reaction.

This was what he had expected; after all, it was not exactly normal for the boy to visit him willingly. He doubted he could think of anything which would make the boy feel inclined to pay him a visit, if it was not to aid a friend.

“I had surmised as much, Mr Weasley.” He answered dryly, a slight smirk appearing on his face despite the severity of the situation.

The boy’s ears flushed red, showing his embarrassment.

“I…remembered some stuff. I thought it might help.”

Severus nodded, and gesturing for the boy to take a seat in front of his desk, which, naturally,  he did.

“Please continue.  Anything could help, if we are to raise a case against these Dursleys.”

“Um….well…He told me a while ago about when they brought him his letter. The Dursleys wouldn’t let him read it. They tried to run away from it, and blocked the gaps in the walls to stop the owls. He said they never gave him pocket money, and didn’t expect any presents at all for Christmas. I don’t think they give him anything. Last year, he got this weird coin thing…” The boy rummaged in his pockets for something, and then pulled it out, showing the professor a silver, many sided coin.

“He gave it to me.” He explained. “I said it was weird and he said I could keep it.”

Severus looked at the coin. He knew about muggle money; he’d been taught by his parents, and by Lily. He’d known all about the muggle world, though he hadn’t felt the need to take muggle studies as an option.  Yet it wasn’t necessarily proof of an abused child. It only meant they’d sent him a coin for Christmas.

It might have been considered a sign of trying to continue his relations with the muggle world.

He nodded. “Very well. Is there anything else?”

“Uh….” The small boy seemed to swallow, nervous about speaking to this professor out of all of them.

“You-you are going to help him, aren’t you?” The boy asked anxiously.

Severus sighed, for once wishing that he could change people’s opinions of him. If only one positive thing could come out of it, it would be for people to trust him. “I will do my best.” He said honestly, believing that to be good enough for the boy, but before he could continue anger burst out of the twelve year old’s chest like a lion’s roar.

“That’s not good enough! If someone’s hurting him, you said you’d help! This can’t happen!” His anger was ferocious and for a moment Snape was startled, but he soon regained his composure. He could see the guilt in the boy’s eyes. Was the boy feeling guilty for not realising and trying to help, now, in the best way he could? He could understand that. After all, Lily had confessed to feeling similar when she’d learnt about his troubles, though she had never managed to alleviate them. A stab of pain reached his heart as he thought of Lily, and then again as he thought of her son. With much more conviction behind his words, he answered the boy again.

“I assure you, I will do my best to help him. There is little more I can do than that. ”

The boy’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. He was quite brave, Severus mused. And very loyal to his friend. His loyalty would have done him well in Hufflepuff, but the bravery and stubborn mindset was much more suited to a Gryffindor.

“I may need you to explain what you know to others, for example, Professor Dumbledore and possibly a ministry of magic employee. It would be wise to inform Miss Granger of that as well.” The potions professor added, feeling it would be a good idea to warn them. No doubt Harry would not agree with the idea-but then, Harry did not know that Severus even knew of his problems.

Ronald nodded, turning to leave at last, as if he had nothing less to say.

Then he spun around to face the hated professor again, and in his face Severus could see something of the friendship he had once shared with a Gryffindor. Was it not strange to see Lily’s kindness and sense of justice and her nerve reflected in the eyes of her child’s best friend?

“I…..Thank you, Professor.” Weasley said, speaking to him again. His words held force in them, and Severus almost wanted to smile. With that, the boy left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

 

**HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP**

 

It was the confrontation by the Potter boy’s best friend which persuaded him to, at last, turn to Dumbledore for assistance. He knew that Dumbledore would be unwilling, at first, to listen. He also knew that Minerva Mcgonagall would be more able to make him pay attention and see what had been hidden just underneath his long, crooked nose.

Yet as they sat together in the headmaster’s office he knew there was nothing else he could do.

“Well, Severus?” Minerva asked stiffly. “What is it?” He knew she was angry at him-no doubt she’d assumed this meeting was about the blatant Gryffindor favorism in the school, or a supposed discrimination against Slytherin’s commited by her.

“Yes, Severus, I must admit I was not expecting for you to call us here.” Dumbledore’s voice was incredibly serene as always, but Severus was not going to let that stop him.

“I am here,” He gritted his teeth, “Because one of your Gryffindors is being abused at home, Minerva, and I thought it would be best if it was brought to your attention.”

Minerva stared at him, her face paler than it had been a moment before.

“Abused?” She repeated.

He nodded. “Although I have had experience in these matters, I…I did not realise until recently.” He admitted, shamefully.

Dumbledore glanced at him, his expression somber, but said nothing.

Minerva swallowed. Her care for the Gryffindor’s was amazing to see, though she rarely showed them her strong compassion. Despite being constantly annoying, Minerva McGonagall was a truly good person.

“Who?” Her voice came out in a whisper. He’d expected her to perhaps get angry. He’d been worried that her Gryffindor instinct would be furious that the student had gone to him instead of her, despite the fact that no one had come to him with the concerns. Yet again, he had underestimated her sense of concern for those she cared for.

With a side glance at Dumbledore, whose resident twinkle had vanished from his eyes, and who looked almost as worried as Minerva, Severus spoke.

“Harry Potter.”


	4. Chapter 4

****

For a moment, there was silence.

And then Minerva exploded.

Severus winced as her voice met his ears, knowing she’d be furious that he hadn’t told her the moment he’d had suspicions.

“You-You-!” She was so angry, her hands were shaking. He’d known her reaction would be strong, but he hadn’t expected it to be this.

“You promised me he was safe!” She forced out, glaring at-not him, not Snape-Albus Dumbledore.

For once, Snape saw Dumbledore speechless. He was paler than Severus had ever seen him before, and he seemed to be shaking slightly.

“I trusted you! Poppy told you, _I_ told you, and you said it was nothing! You promised it was nothing! You promised, Albus!”

Severus stared in shock. Dumbledore had known?

Albus opened his mouth, as if to answer, then closed it again, seemingly dumbfounded.

Then he faced Severus. “What evidence do you have to support this, Severus?”

But for once, Severus didn’t feel much like telling the old man anything. “You knew?” He hissed. “You already knew?”

The headmaster sighed. “Severus-“

“You haven’t changed, have you? Willing to give sympathy to an abused boy, but not willing to help them, to save them!” He was suddenly as furious as Minerva. After knowing about how bad it was, how much he’d been abused by his father, Dumbledore saw fit to ignore child abuse? To subject _Lily’s son_ to that torture?

A small part of his mind wondered when he boy had gone from the arrogant son of James Potter to Lily’s son, but he waved that idea away. It wasn’t important at the moment, when Albus Dumbledore, the man he trusted above all others, had deliberately left a young boy in the home of those who’d abuse him. 

“Severus, please. There was no certainty-and he has to remain at the Dursleys. I seem to remember that the man Lily Evans put down to care for the child if Sirius was unable to refused to care for him. The Dursleys were the only place left.”

Severus stopped at that. It was true, after all. On the night they’d died, the other guardian had refused.

 

_“Dead….You promised you’d protect her!”_

_“Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person, Severus, rather like you. Weren’t you hoping that Lord Voldemort would save her?”_

_“Don’t….”_

_“The boy lives.” The tall man had interrupted, staring at Severus. “You say she never forgave you?”_

_He shook his head numbly. No…Lily had not forgiven him. He had become a death eater, and then he had lost all chance for Lily’s forgiveness._

_“Sirius Black was the child’s godfather. He was the Potter’s secret keeper, and will most likely face a life in Azkaban for what he did.” Dumbledore had gone on, watching Severus closely. It gave him an uneasy feeling…as if something quite unpleasant was coming next. But of course, he’d known that they would trust Black. He’d proven himself to be a murderer before…and yet they’d never seen it. They’d never stopped trusting the blasted murderer._

_“Do you want to know who was listed to take the child, if Sirius Black was unable to?”_

_No, he didn’t; why should he care, the child was nothing to him, nothing to him with Lily dead, with Lily gone and to be buried. The child would be nothing, was nothing._

_“You were, Severus.”_

_His head snapped up, and he stared at Dumbledore in shock, dumfounded, unable even to speak. Albus took little notice of the sudden reaction from the grieving man._

_“Lily Potter  trusted you with the life of her child, knowing you were a death eater. Perhaps she thought there was something redeemable in you, after all.” Severus looked up through his tear stained face at the man, hardly daring to believe that Lily had thought that…and even if she had, she was wrong. He was a death eater. A murderer. Hardly fit to raise a child…_

_Potter’s child._

_“No!” He shouted, furious suddenly. “I will not care for Potter’s son. It’s his fault, too….he should’ve tried to protect her….to keep her safe….” His anger faded again into despair, and Albus nodded._

_“I thought that might be your answer. He has precisely her eyes, Severus. I am sure you remember the exact colour and shape of Lily Potter’s eyes.”_

_“She’s dead! Gone! Don’t…Don’t speak her name….Don’t….”_

With a pang, he wondered if this was his fault, then, too. His fault, firstly, that the boy had no parents-and his fault again that the boy had been raised by those who would abuse him.

“I didn’t know this would happen.” He forced out.  “I assumed he’d be safer….”

 _No,_ he realised, _you just didn’t want to look after the son of the girl you loved….because she married the man who made your life a misery whilst you were at Hogwarts._

“Severus?” Minerva was staring between them, also shocked into silence. She’d known they’d used to be friends, of course. In their first few years, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing Severus and Lily together. They had been so close. It had come to a shock to many of the teachers  when they’d suddenly stopped speaking. And Severus, such a promising student, had fallen into a darker path.

He was no longer on that path, of course, and for that, she was pleased and proud. He’d turned spy for the order of the Phoenix, and she dreaded to think what would have happened to him if You-Know-Who had found out.

“You were told to care for the child?” She asked quietly. Though she was still glaring at Albus, she no longer seemed furious.

He hesitated to respond, but did, meeting her eyes.

“I was given that option, yes. A few hours after….after it happened.”

“You told me they were the only people he could stay with!” She said to Albus.

“They were. I could not force Severus to take the boy, and he had already refused to.”

But this, more than anything, pushed Severus over. “Don’t you dare try to put the blame on me for this! There were others he could have stayed with, others who would have looked after him! You should not have left him there!”

Albus looked grave, but he did not try to defend himself. He just stood there, and let Severus’ anger fade.

Trust it to be Minerva who eventually stopped the arguing, and got them focused again. She was always the level-headed one, he knew. And when one of her lions was in danger, she wasn’t going to risk his safety to finish an argument.

“What does it matter now who’s to blame? We need to make arrangements for the boy to be moved. Clearly, he can no longer stay with the Dursleys.”

Albus sighed, pushing his half-moon spectacles further up his nose. “The problem is, Minerva, I’m not sure he can be moved. When I placed him there, I told you about the blood wards. If he remains there, the fact that Petunia Dursley is his mother’s last living relative will protect him.”

“She is what he needs protection from!” His frustration burst out of him again. “Did you even check she would care for the boy? Or did you just send him there, without even asking if they wanted to look after him?”

Minerva froze, feeling a knot grow tighter in her stomach. No, Albus had not checked, or asked if the Dursley’s wanted Harry there.

“We left him on the doorstep…” She said, her mouth risen to her mouth, as she shook at the realisation of what she’d done. She hadn’t stopped Albus from leaving him on the doorstep, with only a letter to explain things. She’d told him that all of the events could not simply be explained in a letter, but she had abandoned her efforts. She’d always had far too much respect for Albus Dumbledore. For years, she’d refused to go against him.

But she should have. They’d all three made mistakes that night. Albus-asking Severus to look after the son of his enemy, when he’d been in love with the man’s wife, and both of them had died earlier that evening. For then leaving Harry on the doorstep of Lily’s sister, who they all knew had always hated magic. Severus-for refusing to take in the boy because of his own emotions all those years ago, and for not acknowledging the signs for so long simply because he had convinced himself that Harry was an arrogant clone of his father. Minerva-for refusing to question Albus, and for not noticing what one of her young Gryffindor’s was going through.

 

They were all to blame, Minerva knew. And as Severus continued to shout furiously at Albus for having left a baby on the doorstep on a cold October night, she knew that it was up to the three of them to find some sort of solution, despite the so-called blood wards.

“How do the blood wards work?” She asked, interrupting Severus as he ranted about how irresponsible it was to leave Harry outside the Dursley’s door and never even check up on him.

They both stopped, surprised for a moment, and then Severus turned to Dumbledore as well, hoping for an answer.

“I’m afraid its quite complicated. When Lily died for her son, refusing to allow Voldemort to harm him while she lived, she gave him a type of rare, magical protection. Voldemort could no longer hurt Harry-and it is that which led to his downfall. Lily’s protection prevented the boy from dying and made the curse backfire on Voldemort.”

“Will you stop saying the name!” Minerva hissed. She knew there was no reason, really, not to, but still, she hated the name. Each time she heard it she felt a tremor of fear run through her as she remembered how terrible it had been when he was still out there, fighting.

“I will not. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.”

Sighing, she gestured for him to continue, and so he did.

“The protection is linked to her blood, her genes, if you will. Whilst Harry lives with his mother’s closest living relative, he is protected from any who think to harm him while he’s there.”

“Except his relatives.” Severus interrupted. Albus sighed.

“It seems so. However, if the blood wards protect him from anyone else who may attack him…”

“No. He can’t remain there any longer, Albus. It’s not right to subject a boy to that.”

Albus looked exhausted as he replied, resigned. “I know.”

There was silence between them as they all thought over what they could do, trying to come to a solution that would be best for the boy, somehow.

Unfortunately, that proved to be rather difficult.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi, everyone. If you've been to my fanfiction.net profile, you'll see I have more chapters uploaded, but I haven't posted them here because I don't want to post them all at once and I keep forgetting to post the next ones. However, I have to warn you, writing wise I'm only on Chapter 6 and haven't written for ages. I haven't read through this in a while, hopefully it's alright.  
> It's not the best chapter, I remember thinking when I wrote it, but never mind. Looking back, I wrote this two years ago...definitely should have uplpaoded it by now...oh well, will try and upload the next one sooner and thank you for your patience.  
> Sorry for taking so long to upload - I feel especially bad considering it's already written...anyway, thank you for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

****

After a long discussion, Albus finally broached the subject no one else had dared to.

“Severus….you are the best man for the job. Lily did wish for you to take the boy. Would you be willing to, now that you know?”

Severus glared. “I am hardly suitable. And Potter hates me. He wouldn’t want to be in my care.”

Minerva bit her lip. “At least you wouldn’t abuse him, Severus. Even if he dislikes it, it would be better than the current situation.”

“You can’t honestly expect _me_ totake the boy.” He protested, shocked. Despite Lily’s request, he hadn’t really expected this suggestion-especially not from both sides. He wasn’t qualified to look after a child. Especially not that child. Yes, he was starting to see that Harry Potter was not the same as his father, but didn’t they realise the boy hated him?

“It’s not such an unreasonable idea, Severus.” McGonagall explained. “You would best understand the situation, and as well as that, you are not closely linked to the boy. If I took him in, it would be seen as favouritism, as I assume we don’t want to tell the world why. The same would be said with Albus, or any of the teachers who don’t hate him. You, Severus…you may be the             only option.”

He stared at them, blinking in shock. This was unexpected. An actual reason given, explaining clearly why he should care for the boy?

The idea had merits, but there were also flaws.

“If I was to take the boy….I doubt I would keep my temper. He may be lead into believing I would be…similar to his previous guardians.” He said the words with distaste, hating to admit that someone may assume such a terrible thing of him. But any anger might distress the boy, especially when the angry party was a man the boy knew had hated him due to his parentage. It wouldn’t help the child. “And, of course, the boy and I do not exactly get along, Dumbledore. If I was to take him, he would be horrified. He may even attempt to return to the Dursleys in order to avoid me.”

They were silent at that, unable to think of a response.

McGonagall touched his arm gently, in an attempt of comfort, despite the fact that everyone knew he wasn’t exactly touchy-feely in any way at all. Somehow, however, it helped a little. He took a deep breath as surreptitiously as he could, and spoke again, using an ounce of courage he dragged up from who knows where.

“If nowhere else is found, I will take the boy-but only as a last resort, as I do not believe myself to be the best carer for him.”

McGonagall touched his arm gently in comfort, somehow recognising his guilt, but he pulled away sharply. “Who will tell him of the arrangement?” His voice was harsh, cold. “No doubt he will deny it. And how will we keep this from the ministry? Merlin knows if the Prophet found out…” He trailed off, his expression grim, but Dumbledore smiled.

“As for that, I was thinking whilst we were talking. A great mind like mine can multitask, Severus, you ought to try it sometime.” A small amount of the normal twinkle in his eyes had returned as he plucked a Sherbet lemon from the bowl upon his desk, popping it into his mouth as if it would help the situation.

The two professors waited for him to continue speaking, to inform them of his ideas, but as moments passed, one of them became rather impatient.

“For Merlin’s sake, Albus, what is your idea?” Minerva said, exasperated.

“In cases like this, they sometimes send aurors to check on the situation-to look at the living conditions. If we choose the right aurors, we can keep it quiet. I also know someone within the Children and Adolescent Guardianship Department. Miss Grindel will no doubt be willing to help us, and she will understand the need for privacy.”

It was simple, and there were flaws. But Severus had never felt so grateful for the Headmaster’s many contacts.

“But Albus, we still have to get enough evidence!”

“The concerns of three teachers, evidence from his friends, and, of course, if we could get Poppy to do a diagnostic spell the next time Harry is in there, get a full medical history, then that would provide enough evidence for the aurors to begin an investigation. They would accompany Miss Grindel on a visit to the Dursley’s in order to ascertain the truth. Once that has happened, Harry would be taken out of their care. He need not even know until it has been done.”

“Is that right? To not even warn him?” Minerva said, frowning. It seemed unfair to her that he would not be told. If it was proved, and then spoken about afterwards, he’d be confused and not understand what was going on, or how they had discovered the truth. If it wasn’t proved, they’d still have to speak to him about it, because she was not going to allow him to return there! No, she’d rather be turned into a toad…or turn the Dursley’s into toads, she thought menacingly…yes, that’d do nicely.

Severus agreed. “Headmaster, it seems it may be more ….prudent to ask him in advance. He needs to be made aware of the situation. We may still hope that it is a simple misunderstanding.” He drew out the last word, emphasising it. Dumbledore didn’t seem convinced.

“It may not be in the boy’s best interests to tell him.” He pointed out.

“It would be best to reduce his confusion, Headmaster. He deserves to know about the investigation. If convinced we will help him, he may be able to…assist in the case.” Severus wasn’t one to mince words, but he also wasn’t the best at persuading Dumbledore. He doubted the Professor would realise how threatening it would seem, to have all control taken away from him. If Potter had some semblance of control over the situation, he would be more likely to remain calm and truthful, and to trust them.  Severus knew that, had he been given a choice, he would rather have been able to choose what happened. Of course, no one ever tried to help him, he thought bitterly. Even so, it was his responsibility to help others in the situation-even if they were as unlikable as Potter.

“Exactly, Albus. Mr Potter should be told. Perhaps we should contact Miss Grindel, check that she would indeed stay quiet, and then ask Mr Potter before actually calling her in to the school.” Minerva suggested.

Dumbledore frowned slightly, but acquiesced. After all, it did make sense, though he was worried about giving Harry too much information that may affect him at this time. He may not want to be taken away from his relatives, but if Snape’s suspicions were correct, even Dumbledore had to agree he couldn’t stay there.

“Very well. Minerva, if you would bring him here tomorrow after dinner, I believe that would be best. I will contact Ms Grindel now.” He turned to one of the many portraits in the room.

“Evelyn-I do believe you have a portrait in her house?” The painted woman nodded. “I’ll ask her to floo you, Headmaster.” She walked out of the side of her portrait and vanished.

Minerva still looked furious, but nodded. “Very well, Albus. If you’ll excuse me, I-I have matters to attend to.” There was a slight tremor in her voice, but that was all that demonstrated her emotions. Severus felt his respect for her rise slightly. Clearly, the idea of Mr Potter being treated so badly had hit her hard, yet she was doing her best to maintain a normal appearance.

Dumbledore nodded. “Goodbye, Minerva.” He called as she left. Severus simply nodded his goodbye at her, a man of few words, as always.

 

Dumbledore did not appear to wish him to leave so easily. He leant forward, his elbows on his desk, meeting Severus’ eyes through the half-moon spectacles.

“Severus,” He ventured. “I find it….interesting to note you seem to have changed your view of the boy.”

Severus sneered. “Hardly. He is still one of the lesser students in my class. However, I will not ignore the signs of abuse simply because I dislike the one involved.”

“Indeed.” Dumbledore said midly. “You are certain you do not wish to care for the boy?” Severus narrowed his eyes.

“He would not wish me to. He dislikes as much as I disliked his father. He would-“

“But, Severus, I am not asking what he would want. I am trying to consider what would be best for him, and in this case, I must confess I believe you would be a good choice. Lily wanted you to raise the child, after all.”

Severus couldn’t deny that, but even so. “She would not want me to any more. Not after…not knowing everything.” He admitted.

“I disagree, Severus. I believe she would have been perhaps annoyed at how you treated her son, but relieved that you had noticed. She trusted you then. She would still trust you now.”

Severus was still, almost scarily so. Of course Lily would dislike how he’d treated her son. He’d never let himself think of the boy as Lily’s child, but as the Potter brat, arrogant and spoiled as his father, a bully, a troublemaker. He had focused on his own memories and anger to incite his treatment of the child, and that had been wrong. He should not have done so. He knew that could not change now, but similarly, he could not suddenly alter his behaviour towards the boy. To do so would arouse suspicion.

Dumbledore was watching as if he could read the Potioneer’s mind. “You do not have to change your teaching technique, Severus.” He said softly. “Simply do not single him out for punishment.” He paused. “I would like you to be here when we speak to him tomorrow, Severus.” He admitted.

Severus recoiled. “I doubt the boy would want me to be present.” He spat.

“That may be so, but you were the one who realised what was going on, my boy. You should explain things to him as well, to help him understand. You should be here, Severus.” He fixed him with a stern look, making it quite clear that Severus had little choice but to agree.

Scowling, he glared at the Headmaster. “Very well, Headmaster, but do not blame me if he decides to distrust you due to my presence!” He turned, robes swirling behind him angrily, and left the office.

Dumbledore sighed. Then, alone once more, he plucked a sherbet lemon from the bowl of sweets, and began eating. There was nothing like a muggle sweet to help in difficult situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again, another chapter! Well, it wasn't as long as the break between them last time, I can tell you that. :) Hopefully, the next few chapters will be up without too much delay. Within the month, definitely. :)
> 
> I know this is in the wizarding world, but I want to make it as plausible as possible, so if anyone could give me some information about the legal routes and what would happen in the event of child abuse to help me write this, I would be extremely grateful.   
> Please let me know what you think, I want to improve my writing so any comments help. :) Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wasn’t expecting for Professor McGonagall to come up to him during dinner. He’d been eating treacle tart happily until Hermione pointed it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a while ago and apparently hadn't posted it...oops.   
> I haven't re-read it since then and it was over a year ago that I wrote it, so I apologise for bad writing. I might try and rewrite all this at some point. I need to work out how to continue/finish it all first - I never really had a plan for it, it just started as a one-shot and continued.   
> Anyway, I'm really sorry for the immense lack of updates...I just, I want to write it right. It's an important topic.

****

Harry wasn’t expecting for Professor McGonagall to come up to him during dinner. He’d been eating treacle tart happily until Hermione pointed it out.

“Harry! Professor McGonagall is coming over.” She looked at him nervously, and then glanced towards Ron, meeting the redhead’s eye in a conspirator’s glance, before looking away. They’d been acting strange for a while now, since they’d been held back by Snape after Potions. It wasn’t like that had never happened before, but they’d been treating him oddly. Not by much, and it wasn’t always noticeable, but they weren’t exactly telling him everything. A couple of days ago, Ron had disappeared for a bit, and Hermione had made up some story about making him go to the library for her. Neither of them was particularly good at lying. But how could that connect to Professor McGonagall coming over? Unless there was something else relating to what had happened on Halloween. Were people accusing him of being Slytherin’s heir? Did McGonagall believe them? If they did, Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to persuade her otherwise. Adults had a tendency not to believe him when it came to being accused of something he didn’t do.

Nervously, he watched McGonagall getting closer.

“Potter,” She began, her voice surprisingly soft considering he thought she was going to punish him for something. He watched her nervously.

“Once you have finished eating, the headmaster would like to speak to you in his office. I will take you up there myself.” She said. His eyes widened nervously. Summoned to see the Headmaster? How much trouble was he in?

Swallowing the rest of his treacle tart despite it feeling less delicious now he had this to worry about, he stood up anxiously. He didn’t want to keep the Headmaster waiting. It was best to get things like this over with, anyway, he was sure. No one really seemed to notice as he stood up, which he was grateful for, though Percy shot him a suspicious expression. He was sure he would be interrogated later, or Ron and Hermione would be once he’d left and they’d returned to the common room.

Following McGonagall out of the Great Hall, they traversed several flights of stairs, Harry trying to pay attention to where they were going. After all, he’d never been to Dumbledore’s office before; it might be useful to know where it was.

They came to a stop before a gargoyle statue. McGonagall cleared her thought, before saying, “Sherbet Lemons.” Harry looked at her in surprise, but the statue began to move, turning round to reveal a staircase. They stepped on it, and it began to rise. Nervously, he glanced at her, but quickly looked away, not wanting to look guilty of anything. His best ‘innocent’ expression was plastered on his face.

They stopped in front of an ornate door, which McGonagall knocked on.

“Come in.” The voice was slightly raspy, calm. Dumbledore.

Swallowing hard, Harry followed the Professor inside, hoping he wouldn’t get expelled. He couldn’t think what he’d done to cause expulsion, but then again, he was used to being blamed for things that weren’t his fault.

He looked around, noting the strangeness of the room. There were many different instruments that he had no idea how to identify, and portraits all around the walls. In the corner, there was a bird on some sort of stand. The bird had a golden-red plumage, and Harry couldn’t help but notice it seemed beautiful.

That was when he noticed Snape. Tall, dark, and imposing, the very image of the ‘dungeon bat’. If Snape was the one who’d got him in trouble…what did Snape think he’d done now? The Potions Master had been trying to get him expelled since the moment he’d stepped foot into the castle the previous year, and he’d come close at the beginning of the term. Harry could only hope that he hadn’t found something new to lay at Harry’s door, because he really, really, did not want to go back to the Dursley’s.

Out of habit, he glared at the teacher. To his surprise, it wasn’t returned. Snape never usually passed up an opportunity to glare at Harry. It left him with an ominous twist in his stomach. If Snape wasn’t glaring, this must be really bad.

Dumbledore was standing behind the desk, and he smiled kindly at Harry, momentarily relieving some of his worries.

“Sit down, Harry.” Uncertainly, Harry did so, sitting before the desk. It made him even more nervous, feeling small in comparison to the adults around him.

“You’ve been brought here so that we can ask a few questions. We need to ask you about your guardians-about the Dursleys.”

Those words were all it took. Immediately, his fists clenched at his side. He didn’t know what to do. Of all the things he’d considered, this was most certainly not one of them.

Harry felt sick. What were they trying to ask him? What did they want him to say? He wasn’t allowed to, anyway, and even if he did, it would only make everyone realise how much of a freak he was. Maybe they already had. Maybe that was why Snape wasn’t glaring at him-the Potions Professor had realised he was a waste of space, not worth his time. Maybe it was a test, to see if he spoke about what he was never supposed to talk about. He knew the rules, he hadn’t broken them. Not breaking the rules had never stopped him being punished before. He could feel his legs trembling and tried to still them, staring at the desk before him wordlessly.

“What-what do you mean, professor?” He asked nervously.

The Professors exchanged glances. Potter’s reaction did little to quell their fears, working to make it seem yet more likely he was being treated badly by the muggles. He certainly didn’t seem willing to talk about it. His body language was worrying – he’d instantly closed up, looking scared, reluctant to offer any information in case it made the situation worse. They’d have to be more direct, if they were to make him trust them. Professor McGonagall moved forward.

“Mr Potter,” She began. “You need to know that no one in this room can or will harm you, ever. You are perfectly safe here.” He watched her warily, not seeming to believe her words. She couldn’t find it in her heart to blame him.  Severus watched the interactions, unsure. He doubted his interference would help, in fact, Potter would probably close up completely if he showed a sign of movement. Not for the first time, he doubted Dumbledore’s wisdom in inviting him to the meeting. The Headmaster watched McGonagall speak to her student, also failing to interrupt. If he did so, it would dislodge the words that were starting to work so well.

“No one here can harm you, Mr Potter.” She continued. “No one should ever harm you. Someone who is meant to look after you isn’t meant to hurt you. If the Dursley’s have hurt you, then we need to know, so we can take action.”

Harry frowned. They...what? It made no sense. No one had ever wanted to take action before, and there was nothing they could do. You couldn’t stop people from punishing a worthless burden, he’d been told that enough times.  To speak of it would only cause more problems, and punishments for him, because no one would believe him anyway and if they did they’d soon realise he wasn’t worth it, that he wasn’t like Dudley. He wasn’t to be looked after, he was to be punished.

He hadn’t wanted anyone at Hogwarts to find out about that. He’d felt like an equal, a person who deserved all this. If they knew how worthless he was...Uncle Vernon had said before that if they ever realised it, they’d send him back, toss him out before providing education to someone like him.

Yet, Professor McGonagall didn’t usually lie. She was upfront, honest. Here she was, telling him that no one would hurt him and that the Dursley’s should never have done so. He wished he could know for sure it was true, that he could trust in that. He wanted to run, to get out of there and not come back, to hide somewhere no one could find him, cover himself up with the invisibility cloak and not come out.

He barely managed to stop himself. If he ran now, they’d stop him. He was only 12, after all. There was no way he could escape Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, not if they tried to stop him.

He trembled in his chair, trying not to let his emotions show. Despite his best efforts, the signs slipped out.

Professor McGonagall felt almost drawn to tears at the thought of how he must have been treated. In all her years at Hogwarts, she was lucky enough to not have faced many situations of abuse. There had been some, but often they were not as damaging to the child, or had started recently, sometimes based on achievement or magical prowess.

In all manner, she was a professional. She was not going to let him slip through the cracks again.

“Mr Potter, we won’t hurt you. No one at Hogwarts is allowed to hurt you, and certainly not teachers. We want to help you, Harry, but we need you to tell us how they treat you.”

The use of his first name startled him, his eyes flashing upwards instead of remaining looking down at his lap. His eyes met hers only for a second before he remembered himself and looked away quickly, not wanting to appear rude or do anything wrong.

He swallowed. He had to make a choice. Really, could the situation get much worse? Even if the teachers were tricking him...if things would change, if they were telling the truth...wasn’t it worth the risk? If he’d been fighting to defend the stone like last year, he’d take the risk, like he’d tried to tell McGonagall last year about the stone being threatened. Then again, she hadn’t believed him, even though Hermione had been with him, and everyone knew how reliable Hermione was.

He tried to think, and quickly. Would they go to all this trouble to question someone who they found out was worth nothing? Maybe...maybe they still thought he was normal, not a freak. Maybe they still thought that he was normal, and so what was happening would be wrong. After all, he knew that only freaks deserved punishment like he was given.

If he told them....about what happened, and not why....maybe they wouldn’t find out he was useless. Maybe he could stay there, not go back to Privet Drive.

He didn’t know what to say. There was too much at stake here. If they sent him back...but what if they didn’t? What if McGonagall was tricking him somehow? Everyone knew she was harsh sometimes...but as far as he knew, she’d never hurt anyone. He couldn’t work out what to do.

“I-“ he tried to speak but stopped, not even knowing how to force the words out. He could almost hear Uncle Vernon, telling him to stay quiet, deny it, don’t say anything unless it’s no, unless he’s telling them that nothing like what they’re implying has ever happened.

He could almost hear his Uncle’s angry voice. ‘Don’t say a word unless it’s no.’

But No wasn’t right. It wasn’t the truth. Didn’t people always say that truth was better? He’d always been told not to say anything, not to tell them, but they were asking.

Had they already worked it out, anyway?

He hung his head, looking down, starting to breathe heavily, trying not to panic. He had to work out…he could think well in dangerous situations, he had last year facing Quirrell, but this was a while new type of danger.

Professor McGonagall had used his first name…Dumbledore had before, too. They weren’t like the Dursley’s. He couldn’t imagine the Dursley’s ever using his name, rather than Boy, or Freak.

Maybe…maybe it was safe.

He didn’t know what to say, how to begin telling them. What did they expect him to say? He couldn’t describe it, put it into words. He didn’t know how and he didn’t want to.

“I-“

Dumbledore spoke next, the twinkle conspicuously absent from his eyes. “Harry, would it be easier if we asked questions? You can answer yes or no, or even just shake or nod your head.”

Harry hesitated. That sounded easier. He wouldn’t even be saying it out loud, not really admitting it, just shaking or nodding his head, which seemed like maybe, maybe it would be alright.

He gave a small jerk of his head down, a first nod, acknowledging it, accepting that as a course of action, but he felt like what he really wanted to do was run, throw up, and just run somewhere they could never find him.

That would never work, though. He doubted the professors at Hogwarts would be as likely to give up the idea now they had it. He was surprised Professor Snape hadn’t spoken. All the dungeon bat had done was stand there, silently in the corner, just watching the proceedings. He hadn’t even taken the time to insult Harry. That gave him a bad feeling. What if Snape wasn’t insulting him because he knew how much of a freak he was, and he’d worked out that Harry wasn’t worth his time?

“Have the Durleys ever hurt you, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, bending down so that he was on the same level as Harry. It felt comforting in a weird way, but odd. After all, Dumbledore was a lot taller than him.

He swallowed, closed his eyes, screwing up his face to fight his impulse to deny it and run before they could stop him.

Instead, he nodded.

Instantly, he felt sick to his stomach, nausea rising, but the adults didn’t seem to take it as something he’d done wrong.

They took a moment to let him recover, and then Professor McGonagall offered to get him some water or pumpkin juice to drink.

It was clear they would be there for a while.


End file.
